The Vampire Next Door

It was now or never. And Waverly was currently leaning toward never. She’d lived down the hallway from him for two entire years, and she’d only spoken to him a handful of times. For made-up reasons, of course. ‘There is a mandatory meeting this afternoon.’ ‘I saw someone looking into your car earlier today. Watch out.’ She wasn’t proud of that last one. Truth be told, she only had a couple of months left until she graduated college with her education degree, and she had to grow some courage at some point in her life. Why not now? Biting her lip, she nodded her head and glanced down the hallway as he pulled out his keys and began to lock his door. Were those new jeans? She liked the way they looked on him. Stop it. Stop procrastinating. Go. For. It. “Do you always talk to yourself?” Part of her was shocked she’d said any of that out loud, and the other wanted to turn to her neighbor and stick one particular finger in his face. “Do you always stand silently behind your neighbors and gawk at them?” she asked, digging her keys from her cluttered purse. Why were there so many things in her purse? His laugh traveled along her spine and worked its way to the back of her neck. Ethan made his way down the hallway, and her heart stumbled silently. “Hey!” she said loudly, not wanting to miss her chance. Ethan smiled, his blond hair falling onto his forehead like some rom-com movie. “Hey, Whitney,” he said. Whitney. He called her Whitney. To regain what dignity she had left, she shouted, “See you later, Eddie.” He gave her a weird glance over his shoulder but didn’t respond. Her neighbor laughed loudly, holding his stomach and tossing his head backward. “Oh, you’re a piece of work, Girl. Eddie, right. I’m guessing your name isn’t Whitney? How sad. You’re gawking over your neighbor that doesn’t even know your name.” Waverly turned on her heel and came face-to-chest with him, the new neighbor, whatever his name was. He was tall, which wasn’t saying much because she was short herself, but he towered over six feet, easily. She was lady enough to admit that he was good-looking. Probably more so than her crush, but this guy talked too much. He had too many opinions, and she felt opinions were like assholes. Everyone had one, and she had no intention of hearing his. “Listen …” “Drake,” he answered. “—Drake,” she said. “This has been fun and all. Your inability to mind your own business really brings on a good time, but I don’t need a recap on my life. Thank you and have a good day.” She stuck her key into the door dramatically. Drake leaned against the wall between their apartments. Oddly enough, he was a quiet neighbor. No hitting of the headboard at 1 AM, or loud music. He just seemed to always be there. It was creepy. “Don’t give up, champ. If you keep stumbling over words and hanging around outside your door to catch him, he will eventually realize how desperate you are.” Waverly slid her tongue over her teeth and mimicked his laugh from earlier. “Your conversation skills really need work, Damien. Why don’t you run into your apartment and find something to do other than stalk random women.” Drake chuckled. “Sure thing, Waverly." She was shocked he knew her name, but she wouldn’t show it. Shoving her door open, she leaned against it and sighed. Her cat, Rory, stared at her from the kitchen counter. “Down,” she hissed, shooing Rory who took her time. Her cat didn’t even pay any attention to her. How sad. Waverly kicked off her shoes and took down her hair. She had a shift at Bubba’s in thirty minutes, and she couldn’t be late. She worked there most nights to pay her bills. It wasn’t the nicest establishment. It was a restaurant aimed toward men. So the outfits were to appease them. It wasn’t Waverly’s first choice in a job, but they were few and far between since the town was a college town. She fed Rory, got dressed, and tied her dark brown hair into a high ponytail. The fact that her shorts were getting tight around the waist hadn’t gone unnoticed. Those freshman fifteen had settled to the sophomore twenty and now she was at the senior thirty. Sighing, she grabbed her purse, and her keys before leaving. She drove a rundown Honda, like every other girl living in that apartment complex. This wasn’t an apartment that rich kids were sent to. It was for the ones that struggled to pay their own bills and didn’t have parents that could afford another monthly payment. The door creaked when she opened it, and the engine stuttered but she got there right on time. Tying her apron around her waist, she walked into the back door and into the kitchen. Her shift started right as the night rush began, so the kitchen was a madhouse of servers and cooks going at it. Sarah walked past her with a tray full of hot wings, her boobs pushed to her chin. She didn’t blame her. The tips were better that way. “Oh, thank God, Waverly. Here,” she said, shoving a ticket book at her. “Can you please go take half of my section? I’m swamped.” “You bet,” Waverly said, grabbing her time card and clocking in. She maneuvered passed the crowd of servers, tossed her head into her manager’s office to say hello, and walked toward Sarah’s section. There were three tables — a crowd of college students, a couple, and one guy sitting to himself. She walked over toward the group, tossed down menus, and grabbed their drink orders. The couple was ready to order, so she took down their requests and slid a menu in front of the guy to himself. He glanced up from his phone, and Waverly cursed under her breath. “Seriously? Here I thought you only stalked me at my house. Silly me? Why wouldn’t you come and harass me at work.” Drake chuckled, his daring blue eyes were playful and it irked her. “I wouldn’t be a good stalker if I didn’t follow you everywhere. We can tell who isn’t a true crime junkie.” “What do you want to drink?” “Water for now, and a beer. Whatever is on tap.” She left to go grab their drinks when she heard someone shout at her. “Waitress.” She hated being called that. She turned toward the group of college students and glared. “Waverly,” she responded, pointing toward her name tag. “What can I get you?” “Our drinks,” the redhead in the group shouted. “Or is that too big of a task for you?” she added sarcastically. Waverly’s eye twitched, and she noticed Drake turned to look at her. The glare of fear on his face stunned her. Did he know them? “I’ll be right out,” Waverly said with a plastic smile. She felt Drake’s gaze on her back as she walked into the kitchen. Something felt so wrong, and she was about to find out why.